The Famous Malfoy Smirk
by dreamerdoll
Summary: The tears in my eyes threaten to fall as I write this letter, the last thing I will write, the last words I will say. 'So begins Harry's letter to Draco, sent as he readies his death. HD slash. Chapter Three posted!
1. Default Chapter

**Summary: This is a letter to Draco, from Harry, that he has written before he plans to attempt suicide. A bit of suggested HD slash, I think. **

**Rated PG-13 for slight slash (if you wish to call it that) and dark themes (suicide).**

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The snowy owl flew through the hall that evening, landing beside an extremely surprised Slytherin's pumpkin juice goblet. Hesitantly, he slid the letter off the bird's leg and broke the seal, unsure as to of what he was about to read. _Draco-_

_The tears in my eyes threaten to fall as I write this letter, the last thing I will write, the last words I will say. This decision was hard for me. I'm sure you sit there, your back straight, staring at this incredulously as your year-mates talk around you. I bet right now, you are looking across the hall, trying to find me, yet I am not there, in my normal seat, the one I have sat in since we first came to Hogwarts, so many years ago. Funny, as I write this letter, that day is all I can think about. _

I remember you offering your hand-slim, pale, and perfect, I recollect thinking at the time, the hand of an artist-to me, in what I thought of as contorted words of friendship. I realize now how grievous a mistake I made. It wasn't contorted- it was a plea for attention, your insecurity demanding it be hidden by pride. Yet all I could do was smirk as I coldly gave my reply. I remember your astounded look, seeing the hurt in your eyes, yet I thought at the time it was hurt pride, because you weren't used to anyone ever turning you down. How wrong I was.

_As I confess this, your head snaps up, and once again you try to search me out, spot me, but I am still missing, the only thing that shows that I was once here an empty seat between the friends I had chosen-now, I'm not so sure I made the right choice. _

_I am sure you are currently wondering, _Why is it me he writes his final words to, not one of his Gryffindor friends, not Dumbledore? _My answer to that question is that it felt right. We have shared more, in my mind, than anyone else. I spent my childhood glaring at you from across the tables, getting into scuffles with you in the halls, throwing dirty looks and harsh words at you during classes. You, the son of my enemy, are the most important person in my life. You keep me steady when I have no support, because you are the norm. You are always there, arguing with me, sneering and smirking at me, and I have grown so used to this, so comforted by this constant. I feel I have grown to need it. _

_Yet you are still wondering. I can sense it. _Why me_? The question almost echoes through your brain. Because you have always been there, everywhere. I am surrounded by you, in a way I can't help but take comfort out of. Because, over the past few years, I have found myself growing farther and farther away from the rest of the world, and you are the only thing that keeps me attached-the trading of dirty looks, bitter words, angry fights, is what makes me keep hold on what is real. And, in a strange way, I trust you. I know what you will do-you will sit and smirk, no matter what happens. I can expect that, I am comfortable with it. Everyone else always changes, yet you always stay the same, sitting across the hall from me, glowering at me with your beautiful silver orbs. _

_You are appeased with that answer, I know, but now have moved on to another question. _Why is he writing this? What does he mean?_ Yes, Malfoy, I know what you are thinking. And I know that you know, somewhere inside yourself, somewhere that you are currently pushing away, trying to deny what is true. But it is. I am currently standing atop the Astronomy Tower, readying myself for my final move, my final act of bravery, if you will. For this is foolish, Gryffindor bravery. My last attempt to save someone. But, for once, it isn't someone else, some faceless person, unknown. It is me. I can't go on like this- desperate, alone, depressed. I can no longer take all the pressure put on me. I can't defeat the dark lord, a fact that you know well. I will die, I know it. I can't imagine having to face everyone's disappointment if I told them that. And that is another reason why I am doing this. I couldn't face Dumbledore-he is a manipulative old coot, I realize, but I love him like a grandfather, or maybe a favorite great-uncle, or something of that sort. Or maybe a crazy old man who lives next door. That doesn't matter at this point. I can't imagine having to face Ron's anger, his face flushing that angry red, as I tell him that I, for once, can't do something, or Hermoine's quiet, if not disappointed, understanding, or even Hagrid's large, alligator tears as he weeps for me, roughly patting me on the back and telling me that I _am_, despite how we both know he's lying. The only thing I regret not being there to see is your cold smirk, the one that has become so comforting to me, as I tell everyone. Yes. I do wish to see that look directed at me just once more, just so I know that everything in the world is right. But it is not to be. However, I know that you are currently glaring at this letter, and as I can sit here and imagine it, that is almost as good._

_Please remember that I hope that you continue whatever path you wish in your life, and I hope that you get to make the decisions for yourself. I hope that you never know loneliness, and I hope that if you do, there is someone there that will keep you attached to everyone else. But most of all, I hope you never quit smirking your famous Malfoy smirk. _

_Love,_

_Potter (Harry)_

_The-Boy-Who-Finally-Died_

_(Suiting title, isn't it? I find this, in a twisted way, amusing. I'm sure the Dark lord would too…he'd only wish he was there to witness my misery, which is absent now, has been absent since I began to form this plan in my mind. He'd wish to be here to watch as my cold body hits the ground with a cruel splat, dead on impact. Unfortunately, it is not to be. If only I had waited a little longer, we could've had a-what do the ghosts call it? Oh yes, I remember now- a death-day party. How amusing everyone would find that. Maybe I would get presents from my relatives…the first present they would have given me, and only then because they were finally getting rid of me. But the best reason to have one would be to see your wonderful smirk.) Goodbye, Malfoy, Draco, my Dragon. _

The letter fell out of Draco's hand, his face slightlypaler than usual, but the famous Malfoy smirk-his security blanket- was firmly in place.

**So, what did everyone think? Should I continue it?** **Now that you've read, REVIEW!  
**

**PS: I am completely open to corrections, comments, and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, but truthfully, I don't like flames. If you are going to insult someone just for the mere sake of insulting, don't bother to review. Now, please, continue to press that nice little purple button. **


	2. Rescue

The letter fell out of Draco's hand, his face paler than usual, the famous Malfoy smirk-his security blanket-firmly in place.

He stared at it, from its place on the table, and finally seemed to understand. He swiftly stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so, but didn't bother to pick it up. Instead, he snatched the sheet of parchment from the table and went running, as quickly as he could, towards the Astronomy Tower, not heeding the other's warning that he would already be gone. He didn't notice the odd looks from the other students as he rushed from the Great Hall.

As his feet hit the each stone, echoing through the silent stair wells, all he could think of were those last words: _Goodbye, Malfoy, Draco, my Dragon. _

When had Potter _ever_ called him _Draco_, for God's sake? Was the boy drunk? His heart tugged though, at the thought of the way the other had written the letter, almost using a _loving_ tone, in the way he spoke of him.

Yet how could he be such a bloody fool, to give up so easily? And it wasn't just on the rest of the world he was talking about-he didn't give a damn if Potter forgot about the rest of the Wizarding world. It was that he had given up on himself that had astounded him, more than anything had. Merlin, how could he have done that to himself? He had so much to live for, more than anyone else, in Draco's opinion. He had-what he grudgingly admitted-great friends in his Gryffindor housemates, especially the other two members of the Golden Trio. While Weasel was tall, gangly, had a huge temper, not enough brains to fill a tea cup, and spoke more quickly than he thought (which couldn't have been hard, in Draco's opinion, because he had a huge mouth and little brain), and Granger may have been a mud-blood, a know-it-all, bossy, and too intelligent for anyone's good (which pained Draco to admit), they were both loyal friends, for the most part, and only got in short, little spats, but when it came down to it, never left Potter's side. However, he could see where the Boy-that-Lived (he _refused_ to call him by his new, self-appointed title, as it hurt his heart just to think it) thought being friends with a Slytherin would be preferable than befriending a bloody _Gryffindor_. After all, Slytherins were intelligent, cunning, had a quick wit and cool countenance, and cared more for saving their own ass than others-something Draco heartily agreed with, which was probably one of the reasons he was in Slytherin, and loyal to the dark lord-well, not _completely _loyal, but he knew who was going to win, and it would look better if he followed him, as he valued his life.

He was nearing the top of the astronomy tower. Quickly, he made the turn needed to get to the roof. He made quick work of the ladder descending from the trapdoor, and was quickly standing atop the building. Covering his face with a hand, trying to avoid the rain that was surging down on him, he frantically looked around for the other boy. It took two sweeps of the area to find him, as he seemed to fit right in with the darkness of the night.

Shivering, Draco made his way over to Potter, teeth grinding together. _Why_ had Potter _had_ to choose tonight of all nights, when he was likely to freeze his bloody ass off?

The other boy seemed not to notice his presence, for he was leaning over the short wall, looking down at the ground. Draco shivered; this time not from the cold-Potter was really doing it. Of course, he knew he was, but _seeing _him preparing to jump was much different than merely reading it in a letter-a very emotional letter, he had to admit, but a letter none-the-less.

"_Potter," _he called over the howling of the wind, which was quickly picking up. The boy stiffened upon hearing, but didn't bother turning around, instead leaned farther down, as if embracing the night.

Embracing death.

Draco's heartbeat quickened.

_"Potter, get your arse away from that edge and get back here now! Do you bloody understand me? Get back here now_!" He was screeching, he knew. He couldn't help it-he was, for the first time in his life, afraid for someone that wasn't him. Afraid for Potter. That thought just sounded wrong. Yet somehow, so right.

Again, the damned idiot didn't listen. Draco ground his teeth together and scowled. He was deep in thought, considering what to do, when a flash of lightning struck somewhere in the distance, lighting up the sky, and he could see Potter's silhouette as he stood above the short stone wall. He rushed forward, towards him, but he had already disappeared over the edge.

The blond wizard stared over the edge, heart caught in his throat, gripping his wand tightly in his hand...that was it! His wand! Merlin, why didn't he realize this before? He could use his bloody wand!

At this point, he would've dearly liked to slap himself on the head. However, there was no time. Quickly, he murmured a levitating spell and aimed his wand at Potter. He stopped, mid air. Then, Draco firmly pulled his wand up, knowing that the boy suspended in mid-air would have to follow the movement.

Moments later, he was hovering over the walk on the tower, green eyes wide and filled with pain. Filled with questions. Questions that he couldn't, wouldn't, refused, to voice.

Draco sniffed and ended the spell, making Potter fall the last remaining inches to the ground. He told himself that he didn't care that it might have hurt, even as his fist clenched in worry.

"_Potter, how in the hell could you do such a bloody foolish thing? Gryffindor bravery, my arse! This is a _Slytherin_ thing to do, I hope you realize! Bravery has nothing to do with it! You were turning tail and running! Merlin, you insufferable prat, if you were going to do something so bloody stupid, you may as well have not deluded yourself into thinking it was _bravery_! And, speaking of doing such insufferable things, the nerve! You actually come up here, plan to kill yourself! You know there are millions of people out there, ready to listen to all of your bloody pathetic problems, if you would only just _let_ them! Half the wizarding world would _love_ to give you a shoulder to cry on, and all the wizard shrinks would like nothing better than having you lie on their couch for a session! So get over your self-pity! There are people that need you, and you can't just bloody _give up on them_! Merlin! After all your _fight the good fight_ rubbish, I _never_ expected you to try _this_!"_

He looked down. The other boy wasn't even listening. Just staring, not hearing, as he ranted. Merlin. He really _was _insufferable. He had hoped this was what Potter needed-to have someone be brutally honest about how stupid he was. Someone who was outside all of this- well, outside all of the stuff with Dumbledore and his friends and everything-that would be able to make him see sense. Never mind that he agreed with him-he was having a bloody hard time with this, and he _did_ need to find a way out of it. However, killing oneself is never the solution. The Slytherin's unofficial motto (the official motto was quite old, having been made by Salazar himself) was 'If your arse is at stake, then it is _never_ the right way.' It really applied to all situations. Risking yourself was never the correct way to do anything, despite what all those bloody idiotic Gryffindors thought.

Damn. Potter was still out of it, and he had no way to get him back to normal. He shivered suddenly, and Draco realized for the first time that maybe outside, in the freezing cold rain and wind wasn't the best way to confront the moron. Without a second thought, he scooped the other boy up in his arms, extremely shocked at his weight, which was far lighter than it should've been for a young man his age.

After carrying him back down the ladder, one hand gripping the railings, one hand holding tightly to the other boy, he gently set Potter down on the floor. The castle was magically heated, so it wouldn't be too cold, he supposed, having never actually tried it himself.

_Who really cares, _Draco thought, as if to rebuke himself for his supposing, _It's just _Potter

Still, he was very tender as he wrapped his own cloak-which he had magically dried, around the other boy, not even thinking that he could do the same to the clothes the young savior had on himself.


	3. Chapter Two

The Famous Malfoy Smirk 

**Chapter Three:  
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**_This chapter is dedicated to _Vampirelf**_. Thanks to you're awesome review (I loved it…it was great!), I got my butt back in gear, though unfortunately only for this story –shrugs- and wrote the next chapter! _

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_Who really cares_, Draco thought, as if to rebuke himself for his supposing. _It's just _Potter.

Still, he was very tender as he wrapped his own cloak, which he had magically dried, around the other boy, not even thinking that he could do the same to the clothes the young savior had on himself.

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Carefully, he once more scooped the raven-haired boy up in his arms, trying not to jostle him as they moved down the stairs. He stopped at the foot of the tower, unsure where to take the Boy-Who-Lived. Severus, he supposed, might make a good choice, and, though he was sure his godfather would aid the Gryffindor, despite the grudge the two had against each other, he doubted it would be the best solution. It would raise too many questions from Dumbledore, the staff, and other students.

So, with a sigh, he made his way to the Hospital Wing, trying to figure out what he would tell the woman once he came across her. Surely she would suspect that he and Potter had been fighting, and how was he to get out of that one? That he had been strolling along, and had suddenly stumbled across him? Actually, he supposed, that just might work. He could have been taking a stroll out by the lake with the desire to clear his mind after hearing grievous news from home. He had decided to head towards the Quidditch pitch and sit in the stands. As he got closer, however, he saw someone in the sky, and after a large gust of wind, slip off his broom.

Draco, of course, being able to think as quickly as he was under stress, or really, in any circumstance, (here, he let out a devilish smirk) levitated the bloody moron quite easily to the ground of the Quidditch pitch. Quickly, he picked him up in his arms, banishing the broom (a school broom, he decided with a shake of his head, otherwise it might be too difficult to explain) to the closet, and hurriedly made his way to the infirmary. And, after his good deed was done, he would disappear back to the Slytherin common room, no one the wiser of his activities with the exception of a few select. Well, he wouldn't, per se, select those people to know any of his activities on a normal basis, but it was needed. Besides, he wasn't even choosing who would discover the truth, unfortunately.

He thought with a wicked smile that Potter would have to muddle his way through the rest of the story. That one might be interesting, as the fool wasn't a good liar at all. He was too much of a goody good Gryffindor, in some ways, to ever lie adequately. Or so Draco had always believed. But, thinking back, he realized that maybe-just maybe, as he would admit nothing else- there was more to the Boy Wonder than he cared to acknowledge.

Well, there was a strange thought. He quickly banished it to the back of his mind, not wanting to think further on the things that went on in Harry's head, or really Harry in general.

Coming to a stop before the Hospital Wing door, he entered slowly, trying to attract as little attention to himself as possible. Luckily, there was no one else in the room. After dropping the boy in his hands on the nearest bed, he called for the Medi-witch, careful to take a few steps away from Potter as he did. It wouldn't do to be seen fretting over him at all.

Finally, Pomfrey entered the room, a scowl marring the lines of her face. "Mr. Malfoy! This is a sick ward. There is no reason for you to be shouting, no reason at all. If you needed something, you could have come and knocked on my door, like any other person."

He kept in check the urge to blush, or the even stronger urge to say something totally offensive to the woman. Instead, he decided to ignore her rebuke and said, voice low, "I brought you a patient," and took another step away so she could clearly see the bed.

"What has young Potter done this time," she wondered under her breath before rushing over to the pale young man. Draco, figuring this was his chance to escape, attempted to slip from the room, but unfortunately, his plan was foiled by the hassled woman calling out, "I don't think so, Mr. Malfoy! Get back here and explain what happened. Usually you two fighting is the reason he is here, so you understand my caution."

Draco let out a sigh, but truthfully, he had expected nothing else. "Of course, Madam."

She looked at him sharply. "You will come back here and sit down by the bed. Once I am done with this one," she pointed at the patient in front of her, "you will explain how exactly he got in this predicament and how you found him."

After several minutes of sitting in the silent, white washed room, the aging woman turned her back on the injured student and towards the blond Slytherin, sitting so elegantly in his chair.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, to start?" She raised a brow, to which he responded with arching one of his own perfectly sculpted-just like everything else about him-brow.

"But of course. You see, during dinner, I heard grievous news from home, and decided that, in order to clear my head and work through my sorrow, I would take a walk down by the lake. It was storming outside, but I had my cloak on, and besides, as deep in my thoughts as I was, it really didn't bother me. After my walk around the lake, I decided to head towards the Quidditch pitch and sit in the stands for a few moments in order to think on my problems more in privacy. As I stepped onto the field, I glimpsed, during a flash of lightning, a lone figure flying in the sky, battling against the wind. Suddenly, the person's grip on the broom was lost, and he slipped from it and came crashing down to the ground. Luckily, I drew my wand and cast a levitation charm on him just in time. After gently setting him on the ground, I rushed over to the person, intent to discover who it was, and, imagine my surprise to find the still form of Potter, Hogwart's resident savior." He chuckled dryly and continued. "After throwing my cloak down on him, which I had since dried, I carried him up here," he concluded.

The nurse nodded her head. "That sounds palpable, Mr. Malfoy. You are free to go, but rest assured that, once Mr. Potter wakes up and tells his own story, if the two do not check, you will both be questioned by the head master." She waved him out of the infirmary, and gladly he left, heading for the Slytherin dorms, intent on getting a good night's rest to clear his thoughts, for, after this night, his head was full of conflicting ideas, and he had no idea what to believe. Better, he decided, to not form any other opinion of Potter, besides the fact that he is a complete dunderhead, until I have thought everything through.

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This chapter is about 1200 words….Not that much, really, I suppose. But I'll hopefully update soon! Now, onto review responses…

**Vampirelf: **t

hanks so much for the review! As I stated earlier, I loved it. -grins- Anyway, I'm glad you like, and I hope you are just as interested in this chapter! -grins-

**Queen Caira: **Will do!

**Chisai1213: **Lol. I would suggest others as firsts, really, but I'm glad you liked! Oh, trust me, before I read my first Harry/Draco pairing (almost two years ago, now), I thought that Draco was a huge pain in the butt. Now, I think he's an awesome, sexy, evil, blond Slytherin! Lol. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it. But yeah, I understand what you mean. The idea of it is funny, I suppose, after all, who would think Harry and Draco, beloved enemies, would EVER get together? Lol. And I've been told that the way I word things is amusing, too, so -shrugs-. Actually, I get harassed about it quite a bit. -sighs and shakes head- Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**BlackieBrens: **Lol. I will. And I'm glad you like it so far! I've read so many of these kinds, and I don't know...a lot of them just don't seem _right_, so I figured I'd add my own ideas to the list of cliches. -grins-

**Sparklie-tangerines: **Actually, that was my point. I kind of modelled Malfoy a bit after me in that part. -grins- And he seems like the type to screech when upset, doesn't he? Idk. Lol. Anwyay, thank you for the review!

**Anyway, thanks, you guys are awesome! Now, if you don't mind...-points at little purple button at bottom of page- REVIEW! lol. **


	4. Chapter 4

The Famous Malfoy Smirk 

**Chapter Three**

**Harry's POV**

**Author Notes:**

Okay, sorry everyone. This chapter is really rather little. Just short of 500 words, unfortunately. You have my deepest apologies. However, I knew from the beginning this one would be short, and I found the perfect ending place (or at least I thought so) so decided to stop it there, as you can see. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

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Harry awoke to bright light streaming through the windows. He cursed whoever had left the windows open, but then realized that his bed was surrounded by its own curtains, which he _always _kept closed, and furthermore that there _shouldn't_ have been bright light streaming through the windows, as he _should've_ be dead.

Well, he certainly wasn't dead, he thought with a mental shake of his head. Dead people weren't supposed to ache. So, with a feeling of dread, he opened his eyes, figuring that he had to be in the hospital wing. How he got there, he wasn't sure, but still, that was where he was.

Sure enough, the white walls and plain beds surrounded him, the brightness of the room making his head ache worse. He groaned and once more closed his eyes. Unfortunately, the noise brought Madam Pomfrey rushing out from her office. "Potter. Glad to see you're awake. No, don't pretend now that you're still asleep, I know you aren't. Open your eyes, boy. Now, tell me what happened," she ordered, shaking a finger at him.

He thought back. He remembered writing the letter to Draco and telling Hedwig to deliver it; walking up the flights of stairs to the Astronomy tower; watching the lightning and listening to the thunder; feeling it echoing in his bones as the rain seeped into his skin; breaking through the intricate puzzle that was the wards around the tower, which kept students from jumping; and finally falling off the wall.

Then, a last memory flooded through him, of something yanking him back up and dropping him on a hard, slick surface. Someone screeching at him, telling him how idiotic he was for attempting such a thing. Blond hair flying in the wind, splattered with rain, and furious silver eyes.

His eyebrows snapped up. "Malfoy saved me!" he exclaimed, shock filling him. Really, the observation wasn't meant for Madam Pomfrey, but she took it as such anyway, and nodded her head. "Yes, that's what the young man told me, too. Now, the whole story, if you please."

Harry let his eyes droop and pretended to suppress a yawn. "Yes, of course," once more he faked a yawned, "Madam Pomfrey. You see, it was really windy, and the rain was coming down really hard," yawn, "and I couldn't see what was," bigger yawn, "in front of me," again, he yawned. Madam Pomfrey, realizing how tired the "poor boy" seemed to be, shook her head.

"Potter, finish the story later. For now, I want you to rest a little more," she ordered him. "Luckily, you don't have a fever, nor do you have any broken bones. You're just lucky he got to you in time, before you hit the ground!" She turned away from him, leaving the raven haired Gryffindor to rest once more in silence.

As she walked away, Harry smirked. There was a reason the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin.

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**Review Responses:**

**vampirelf: **Lol. You shouldn't be; anyone who can persuade me to update desrves it! **giggles** It's really sad, how seldomly I update any more...lol! Glad I made someone happy! My friends had been threatening bodily harm if I didn't update soon (and still are), so its nice to find someone I've appeased with my...less than stellar updating abilities...Fanfiction really does change people's opinions of people, doesn't it? Lol. Unfortunately, I am at this point not sure if I'm going to make him suffer at the hands of Madam Pomfrey any longer...I'm contemplating having the next chapter be Draco coming for a late night visit...Ok, that probably doesn't sound too good, does it? I'm not far enough along in the story to have anything um...sex related, and am not sure if I could even manage to WRITE something like that, so yeah, that's not what it would be, in case you're wondering. **blushes**

**RisuMusume: **lol. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I desperately hope that his reaction didn't put you off the story! **snickers**

**sage-serenity: **lol. Well, from your review, I suppose this is the kind of reaction from Harry you were hoping for...I hope it is, anyway! Lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

**Alella: **lol. Firstly, thank you! Secondly, I started this (the story)while anxiously awaiting for HBP to come out, and when it did, I sat and (SPOILER WARNING **giggles...**)cursed JK Rowling to hell for killing off poor Dumbledore (who I knew was going to die, btw, but it was still SOO sad!), pretending to make Snape evil (HE CAN'T BE! Besides, it was way too...Idk. I have lots of good evidence, though! Lol), and making poor Draco do such horrible things...**sobs **Fanfiction is SOO much better than reality. **grins **I don't LIKE evil Draco...I think that was AWFUL! Poor Harry, having the love of his life (or soon to be! okay, wishful thinking, but still!) doing such horrible things to him. Lol. Anyway, thanks once again for the reveiw, and sorry for the long rambling/ranting period!

**ZIPPIYGIRL: **Thanks! What do you mean, you were wondering what happened with them? Sorry, I didn't understand...

**oliver1234: **I hope this was soon enough:D Thanks for the review! ;-)

**chisai1213: **lol. Thanks. Yeah, he can be, but he's also an extremely hot, evil, blond Slytherin, so its excusable...**Snickers **Lol. I've been told by friends that my style of writing is"psycho and strange", so I'm always grateful for a positive remark about it. I'm glad you enjoyed, and hope you liked the newest chapter! Thanks for the review!

**Nutz Nina: **Lol. Thanks!


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